


Escape Artist

by renquise



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that a spy without an escape route is very often a dead spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape Artist

It’s been drilled into him ever since he started his career: always have an exit strategy. Cut and run when you need to. Don’t get caught. Know when you’re in too deep.

Spy takes a deep breath and flexes against the smooth ties crossing his chest, knots pressing lightly into his skin. They’re well-made knots, his arms pulled securely behind his back . An edge of paranoia flickers in his gut. He’s utterly vulnerable here, he knows. He can’t even run with his legs bound as they are. And if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that a spy without an escape route is very often a dead spy.

When Engineer traces his fingers over his skin, he can catalogue the multiple different ways he could be killed—ways he’s killed others before. His belly: a stab wound, a slow, painful bleed out. The inside of his thigh: an artery, a quick slice, and that’s that. His arm: debilitating, but not fatal, most likely. His throat: always a classic. And that was just with a knife.

When Engineer had suggested it, Spy had laughed, making a comment about roping calves. His laughter had receded to a weak chuckle when Engineer had told him exactly what he had in mind. Of course, they’d tried lighter fare before, but it always had the comfort of knowing that he could slip out of them with only a few practiced motions. A quick twist of a lock-pick concealed in his glove for handcuffs, a few seconds for rope, perhaps a little more if they were a touch tighter or more complicated. Engineer knows his knots, though, and this is rather more elaborate. More importantly, perhaps, Engineer knows him and the ways he can escape. When Spy tests the ties with a tug, they don’t give—practical and effective, like the man himself, though the rope web over his chest speaks to a more aesthetic purpose.

The gradual realization that he’s immobilized makes his stomach twist with something like fear—but it’s not quite that, overlaid as it is with a strange calmness. There’s a part of Spy that can’t deny that there’s a comforting certainty to this—that as hard as he struggles and twists against the bonds, Engineer will not let him escape. The pressure of the rope against his skin should feel more confining than it does.

“Too tight?” Engineer asks, running a hand over the ties and testing them, pressing lightly on his fingertips.

Spy closes his eyes and breathes.

“Non.”

Engineer kisses him, tilting Spy’s head up into his touch. “Good.”


End file.
